Perfect Memory
by Eleneri
Summary: Currently 11th in the Rose Shepard Series: The night before Ilos, Shepard and Kaidan finally give in to their attraction. This is a reimagined and expanded version, because I was not particularly impressed with how the game handled the scene. Dedicated to Jules Hawk.


_**Author's Note**: Standard disclaimer; Mass Effect and all associated characters belong to Bioware. Frankly, though, I wasn't too crazy about the romance ending before Ilos. This is my reinterpretation and expansion of the scene starting after the fade to black moment. It bears but little resemblance to the actual paragon scene in ME1 (which I admit I haven't actually played yet. I'm still avoiding Virmire until I get more stories written so I don't have so much backlog.)_

_Background: in my Shepard's storyline, Kaidan has an eidetic memory and is a decently accomplished artist in his downtime. As painting isn't exactly a hobby you can have on a warship, he makes do with a sketchpad and charcoals or pencils. The idea isn't mine, but I liked the way it gave dimension to a fairly reserved and somewhat stoic characterization, so I ran with it. Since my Shepard is also a closet musician, it amuses and interests me that both people in this relationship hide their sensitivities unless they're in personal surroundings._

_Dedicated to Jules Hawk, lovely reviewer, to whom I owed a nice story since I made her cry with another one._

* * *

**_Aboard the SSV Normandy_**

**_Captain's Cabin_**

**_On approach to Ilos_**

* * *

Dressed only in his BDU pants, his bare feet cold against the metal decking, Kaidan sits at the small desk in Shepard's cabin aboard the _Normandy_. His hands are covered with charcoal dust, and his fingers ache, but Kaidan keeps drawing, keeps pulling the next paper from the small stack he'd stashed in here. Some of the sheets are covered in quick studies, some in more complete sketches. He's working on another one now. His fifth? Eighth? The way his fingers are cramping, it could be his twentieth, but he just doesn't know. It doesn't matter anyway.

He's _got _her.

Shepard is still asleep, lying on her side amid the mussed linens of the captain's bed, hair tousled in inky swirls against the plain, military-issue pillowcase. Her face is a study in contrasts, with its strong, straight nose and soft, lush mouth; the feathery curve of thick black lashes lying against pale skin and the harsh reality embodied by the long line of a faded scar below her right eye. She is, to Kaidan's mind, utterly and arrestingly female. The long, elegant line of her sleekly muscled leg as it flows into the landscape of her torso, the sensual curve of a hip rising like a cresting wave above tangled sheets, the soft, ripe swell of a breast half covered by her crooked arm, the precise way the icy light from the terminal slides over her skin, highlighting smooth skin and scars alike... these are all things that signify _Rose_ to him, not Commander Shepard at all, and they are things that will not last. He needs to capture them now because this moment will never exist again once it's gone. The thought terrifies him. The medium of charcoal and pencil is imperfect for what he wants to accomplish, but it's all he has, and they'll be at Ilos soon.

Someday, Kaidan promises himself, he'll paint her like this.

Shepard stirs, dark eyes opening. All at once, everything about her goes from utter peace to absolute wakefulness, even if the position of her body doesn't change. Heavy locks of black hair slide over her bare shoulder when she stretches languidly, like a cat. She smiles at him, open and warm and the vaguest bit shy and Kaidan's breath hisses between his teeth. She's _perfect_. "Don't. Move." he says huskily, fingers flying across the paper as he tries to capture the moment.

Shepard's smile grows. It makes him notice that her lips are still swollen and reddened from his kisses. He remembers the taste of her, sweetly spicy and wild and like nothing he's ever experienced before. Kaidan wishes there was some way to incorporate that knowledge into his drawing.

"What are you doing?" she asks quietly.

He's not working so hard that he can't smile a little. "Memorizing you."

"Mmm. I thought you remembered everything anyway."

"Yeah, well, over time, I can lose details. I don't want to lose anything about this. About you. It's been a long time since I've met a woman who I want to stay in my mind."

"Kaidan..." She reaches out for him; his busy fingers go still and Kaidan knows that drawing or no drawing, he will never, ever forget the look that is on her face at that moment.

"Commander." Joker's voice fills the cabin like aural ice water. "We're five minutes out from the Mu relay."

Kaidan watches Rose morph back into Commander Shepard, and his fingers tighten on his charcoal until it snaps.

Moment lost.

"Thanks, Joker." She tabs off her comm and slides out of bed, unashamedly naked, and pads over to where Kaidan sits at the desk. He doesn't move, unsure of what to expect. It's the best kind of surprise when she slides into his lap and gently brushes her lips across his. "Kaidan."

He knows that they should still be trying to leave a way out, that what happened between them can't affect the mission, but he can't. Not yet. "If anything happens to you, I swear..." He sucks in a deep breath, bare chest heaving once, but banks the emotion. It's not going to serve either of them now.

"Same goes." She rests her forehead against his for a too-brief moment. "I should go."

Shepard rises, all grace and silky skin and strength, and pads into the adjoining cubicle to shower. Kaidan tucks away his drawing and finishes dressing, hearing the shower come on and knowing that Shepard is washing away all trace of him from her body. Three minutes later, she reappears in combats. He notices that she hasn't had time to wash her hair, and can't control the spike of pure primal satisfaction in his gut. He remembers running his hands through the heavy, silky length of her hair, remembers how it feels when it's damp with sweat. She'll carry the faintest trace of his scent on her after all. He holds onto that thought, hopes that she'll do the same. But he doesn't ask. He can't.

They both have their game faces on now, but it's Shepard who pauses at the door.

"Stay safe, Kaidan."

He nods. "Be careful, commander."

O o O

Years later, when he sees her on Horizon, Kaidan's cherished perfect memory of his Shepard slides together with the reality of this new Shepard standing in front of him, clashing and merging in a way wholly disturbing to him, and whoever this woman truly is, Kaidan _hates_ her for destroying his memory. For tainting it with Cerberus' lies. He says terrible things, cruel things, fueled by a toxic mix of disbelief and molten rage that merges and eats away at his chest like thresher acid and razor blades, and when he walks away from her, from all of them, it's because if he does not, he will take them all apart with his mind and his bare fucking hands.

Fucking Cerberus bastards. He's just lost her all over again.


End file.
